Milford Track

On to the track

A clear moment descending from MacKinnon Pass

Sutherland Falls: second longest in the Southern Hemisphere

The weka

Our pickup from Sandfly Point

The Milford's reputation as "the finest walk in the world" has set it apart from other walks in NZ. It books up months in advance, and there are no campgrounds: all trampers must stay in the Department of Conservation huts. There is also no flexibility once you begin the walk. You must move on to the next hut each afternoon. You cannot, say, wait out the poor weather before beginning the scenic mountain pass. These restrictions are sore points for many walkers, but they exist to meet the huge demand for space on the Milford. And if the Milford does feel more regulated than the other walks, the boat ride to and from the track, the clear all-star cast of DOC hut wardens, and the historic markers of Quintin MacKinnon and Donald Sutherland along the track also add to a special mystique about the tramp.

The track is centered in Fiordland National Park in the southwest of the South Island, beginning at the head of Lake Te Anau and finishing in Milford Sound. Fiordland is incredibly wet, with an annual rainfall near nine meters. This rain feeds the mountain waterfalls that surround, or as often is the case, flood the track (the group two days behind us spent their final day wading through waist-high water, gripping large fallen branches between them for safety!). The waterfalls are so powerful and plentiful around the sound that near the water's surface live confused sea-creatures that otherwise only live in deep ocean environments. Beyond the rain, Fiordland is characterized by the innumerable sandflies (imagine fruit flies that swarm and eat you) and mountains. The mountains of Fiordland shoot up from the ground at extreme angles, and walking through a valley at their base you feel dwarfed by the peaks that appear to stand directly above you.

The most challenging climb of the walk was up MacKinnon Pass, the top of which offers complete views of the mountains just passed through and the alpine terrain and sound to come. The fog and horizontal rain robbed us of this perspective, though, and we could barely see our hands held out in front of us. I thought the following quotation posted that evening at Dumpling Hut (warden: Ming Tsai) captured the disappointment well:

"What a grief to be doing it in this fog! We are walking on top of the world amid such company of Mountain Kings as we may never meet again, and not one glimpse of them to gladden our eyes!"  -Elsie K Morton, 1949

As Christina could tell you, I tend to mope around a lot when we find disappointment on the trail, but the descent down an excellent waterfall boardwalk and, later that afternoon, a side trip to the gigantic Sutherland Falls cheered me up plenty. Also, on this walk I made the discovery of marching to the theme of The Last of the Mohicans (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ygNuRpwZqRU) when I am either upset or running out of energy. Works wonders!

The first day on the Milford was the most memorable, despite only about an hour and a half walk to the first hut. It was our one clear day, and after setting down our bags at the hut we went swimming in the pristine and frigid Clinton River. I didn't last long, but submerging myself was exhilirating. Later, our no-nonsense but wickedly-funny hut warden named Peter Jackson (!) took us on a nighttime tour of nearby glow-worms, which were more beautiful than I expected. Next he took us to the nearby heli-pad, surrounded 360 degrees by mountains, silhoutted by the moon that had not yet risen into sight, and he pointed out the summer constellations of the Southern Hemisphere. To experience so much after dark, when I am ordinarily asleep and searching for recovery for the next day, was magical.

Rob Roy Glacier

The long and dangerous road

Heaphy Track

Highest point on the Heaphy at 915 meters

The river mouth from a distance

Travelling nearly 80 kilometers west and south through the Kahurangi National Park, the Heaphy Track is the longest Great Walk in New Zealand. Each day on the Heaphy is unique, and the scenery shifted so completely that the large distances passed with little effort. We knocked out most of the climbing on the first day, slowly gaining about 850 meters through forested hillside, measuring our height against the surrounding mountains. We spent the night at the Perry Saddle campsite, where the saddle channelled the evening's rain clouds directly into us. (There was plenty of rain during our five days on the Heaphy, most of it horizontal, but the fun was that it never fell from above, we were literally inside the storm clouds.) The following day we passed through the gorgeous tussock downs, crossing a series of frightening cable bridges (maximum capacity one!). Just off the trail we found a series of limestone caves, the largest of which had a large waterfall pouring out of it. We bathed and played in the chilly falls and pool- the most fun we've had tramping so far.

Day three was completely washed out. Thankfully it was our shortest day. Visibility was poor and we had to leap across a few flooding streams before finding the James Mackay hut, which we paid a fee to spend the night in. The fireplace in the hut was going when we arrived, and to raise our spirits we made some tea with powdered milk and sugar (it is the civilized way to tramp). We woke up early the next morning to improved weather for our longest day's hike. We gradually descended towards the sound of the rushing Heaphy River, which we followed until it connected with the west coast of the South Island. It was exciting to turn the final corner and see the incoming tide of the coast halt the flow of the river - the mix of fresh and salt water provided plenty of action. Here was the Heaphy campsite, where he spent our final night with some murderous sandflies. The final day was an easy and gorgeous walk, travelling 16 km south down the west coast. Following the track we had a sub-tropical jungle, full of nikau palms, to our left, and the pounding waves and fearsome currents of the west coast to our right. (Or, if we closed our eyes, we could hear the steady roar of millions of insects to one side and the immense waves on the other!). The waves appeared to be travelling in every possible direction, and as we were warned, it did not appear safe to swim. We landed at Kohaihai at 1pm and then caught a shuttle to the nearest town, Karamea.

I failed to mention the wildlife we saw on Cape Reinga and Abel Tasman, so I'll return there now. As advertised, the birds dominate New Zealand. The songbirds sing their unpredictable songs as we walk through the forest and jungle, and they help to ease us asleep and wake us in the morning. We've encountered a number of curious flightless birds, who have thrived (until recently) in New Zealand thanks to the complete lack of land predators. We've seen goofy swamp hens dance around each other, flightless turkeys run across our path, and wekas investigate our tent. At night on the Heaphy we were thrilled to hear the loud trill of the nocturnal kiwi, though we haven't spotted one yet. Fantails, wood pigeons, and tuis are other exotic birds we've come across. Beyond the birds, we saw two New Zealand fur seal colonies on Abel Tasman, and before retiring to our tent on Cape Reinga I was stunned to see a boar (!) rush down a hill just in front of us with some great purpose. The next morning we saw a family of hoof prints on the beach...

This week we travel to the far south of Fiordland National Park, where we walk the Milford, Kepler, and Routeburn tracks. My interest in all of these walks began with a travel documentary I caught on the Milford in 2007. In less happy news, my new camera died on the track. Two nights later, like many bereaved widowers, my Kindle gave up on its own life. It was not the moisture.

Abel Tasman

    

Leaving the North Island

Baby mussels everywhere!

Going for a Steve Earle from "Copperhead Road" video meets DFW

Our MVP: Quickbeam

Abel Tasman is New Zealand's most popular walk, and it is easy to see why. The four day, 55km trail travels north around the coastline through Abel Tasman National Park, crossing through forests, hills, estuaries, rocky cliffs, and the main attraction, perhaps the most pristine beaches in NZ. The bays in the park are well protected from the violent currents of the larger seas, making Abel Tasman ideal for swimming, floating, relaxing, and kayaking (beached kayakers tormented us with their bottles, or in the Norwegians' case, BOXES of wine). Several water taxi companies also offer service to the major Abel Tasman beaches. Because the park is not accessible by car, many people take the taxi into a beach, spend the day there or even walk to another pickup site, and then return home later that afternoon. Abel Tasman is protected by the surrounding mountains, which means that sunshine and blue skies rule almost year-round (it was sunny and clear, 75-low 90s for us). But for all I had read about Abel Tasman's popularity, the crush of humanity was not so great. We passed plenty of folks walking the opposite direction, but with few exceptions, we were happily on our own.

Relative to Cape Reinga, the tramping was easygoing. Abel Tasman is classified by the Department of Conservation as a Great Walk, one of nine, which means that because it is one of the most celebrated walks in NZ the DOC takes care to keep the trail well-marked and easy to follow. Estuaries could only be passed a few hours before or after low tide, which required some planning ahead, and a few bridges made my knees wobble, but it was all quite accessible. Each day featured about four to eight hours of actual tramping, not including time spent lunching on the beach. Much of the walk is through dense forest, climbing up, and winding down hills, and the trail is punctuated by stunning views of the coastline. The water is shockingly clear and sparkles green. The DOC services huts along the way, though we stayed in smaller campsites, each one on its own isolated beach! We quickly learned the importance of getting an early start, which allowed more time at the end of the day for refreshing swims (baths?) in the ocean and relaxation before the sun went down and the bugs came out for a snack.

Our bodies did wear down as the walk progressed, and unfortunately each day also featured more climbing than the last. Our final race up Gibbs Hill (no time for a rest, we had a water taxi home to catch!) left me in sad shape, but we made it, and we rewarded ourselves with a much needed shower and an Olympian breakfast the next morning.

We have spent the days since getting our strength back here in Nelson, a small but lively city right on the water in the north of the South Island. We are in wine country, and we've spent two days tasting in Nelson and Marlborough. I particularly loved our visit to the fabulous Spy Valley in Marlborough. We've allowed about a week between each major walk to recover, and it is tempting to treat ourselves now to all the comforts we were deprived of out there, but that is of course the easiest way to spend all of our money, so we are trying to use caution. In two days we will begin the Heaphy Track, which travels west through the country and then turns south down the west coast. It will be much more challenging than Abel Tasman, which intimidates me, but the bulk of the climbing is on the first day when we'll have the most strength.

A short word on "emotions." We are both very happy! Any stresses so far have been minor. I have often stopped to appreciate how lucky I am to be here, living one of my greatest dreams. I miss many people and places already, even if it has only been a few weeks. But with so much left to see, I do feel like the whole world is here in front of us. We just renewed our car registration for the full year, so I'll see you later :)

P.S. You can find X-File's blog here: http://christinarosenthal.blogspot.com/